


Remember when we were 13?

by sammywolfdamon



Series: Multi-Fandom Dick Measuring Hijinks [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay For You, Gay Male Character, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, POV Scott McCall, Penis Measuring, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Bromance, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf) Has a Big Dick, Scott is a Good Friend, Smut, Stiles Stilinski Has a Big Dick, Underage Kissing, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 10:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15362883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammywolfdamon/pseuds/sammywolfdamon
Summary: Stiles and Scott are bored one day, and decide to settle an old score...orA straight-up dick measuring contest.Set in the Summer between S2 and S3.





	Remember when we were 13?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, this is my first fic, so I hope you enjoy! I am very open to feedback or tips. Thanks :)
> 
> P.S Sorry for the weird formatting, I don't know what's going on there.

> Scott didn’t quite know why or how exactly it had happened, it just kinda… had.
> 
>  
> 
> He had been chilling with Stiles in his room one day during the summer in August after they had been for a walk through the woods in the nature reserve due to the amazing weather. They had walked down the stream, throwing rocks and debating the existence of human life, before striding past the old Hale house and back towards Scott’s home.
> 
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> His mum was away on a business trip to San Francisco for a Greater California Nurses and Medics Association conference. She had been asked to talk as a guest speaker due to her handling of Beacon Hills Hospital through its somewhat irregular occurrences. Scott was pretty proud of her.
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> Stiles was leaning languidly back, arms resting above his head, on the dark navy wheelie chair at Scott’s desk. The mellow, golden sun streamed through Scott’s windows and set his best friend’s face aglow, his features highlighted.
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> Scott watched Stiles from his bed, his eyes following the baseball Stiles long, slender fingers were fiddling with.
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> “I’m telling you Scott, I am absolutely one hundred percent convinced that you’ll become an alpha one day. It’s like, in your blood man. You know, destiny and stuff. All that shit.”
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> Scott just huffed and shook his head. “Huh, I highly doubt that Stiles. I can barely keep my friends alive, let alone lead them.”
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> Stiles got up from his reclining position and sat up, facing Scott, still fiddling with the baseball. “Yeah, but we’re all still alive. And that’s the point. You’re leading us by keeping us alive.” Stiles stretched up his right arm and scratched behind his ear, his shirt lifting and exposing a sliver of abundantly hairy lower torso.
> 
> Scott may or may not have licked his lips.
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>  
> 
> If Scott was being totally honest, he may have started developing feelings for his best friend over the last couple of months, or at least an attraction. He didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because he was growing out his hair and bulking up, making him more attractive, at least, in Scott’s eyes. Maybe it was because he and Allison were on a break. Maybe it was because Stiles was his only constant in this ever-changing world of werewolves, homicidal lizards and supernatural creatures.
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> He couldn’t pinpoint it. But Scott was sure of one thing. He definitely liked Stiles.
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> Scott had never considered that he could like guys. But Stiles seemed to throw a wrench in that, since he had originally been so resigned to his heterosexuality.
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> “Hey,” Stiles interjected, interrupting Scott’s thoughts. “So, quick question: when you became a werewolf, did your body change? I mean like, permanently, not just when you turn.”
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> Scott smiled and chuckled, looking up at Stiles, then answered, “Nah, not really. I mean, I was already bulking up at that point for lacrosse season, so if it did do anything, I didn’t notice anything.” Stiles nodded ponderously, but Scott could tell that he didn’t think his question had been fully answered.
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> Stiles chucked the ball from hand to hand, before asking, “Okay, but did anything else change about you? Like, I don’t know, your hands or your dick?”
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> Scott’s breath hitched, he was so taken aback by Stiles’ bluntness. “What?”
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> Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “Oh don’t react like that Scott. I’m your best friend, remember? We used to talk about this shit all the time.”
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> Scott indeed remembered all their chats, but with his burgeoning attraction to Stiles, he couldn’t help but feel flustered. And a bit hot.
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> “Don’t you remember back when we were kids, like 13 years old or something, we used to whip out our cocks and measure up?” Stiles smiled as though recalling a fond memory, which, Scott guessed, he was.
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> There was something about Stiles saying the word cock that just made Scott absolutely die. Scott tried not to let the heat rise to his cheeks.
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> “Well yeah,” Scott confirmed blusteringly, “of course I do.” Scott was looking at Stiles fiddle with that goddamn baseball of his and he was getting worked up.
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> “So,” Stiles looks at Scott imploringly, his hazel eyes seemingly drilling into Scott’s head and exposing all his darkest thoughts and feelings, “my question stands. Did your dick change?”
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> Scott gulped. He was pretty sure his dick hadn’t changed or been affected in any way. Maybe it had gotten a little thicker? But that just comes from age. He collected himself and replied, “No, Stiles. My dick didn’t change.”
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> Stiles raises an eyebrow amusingly, and his face turns into a smug grin. “Well then, old Scotty boy. Wanna compare cocks again?” And there’s that goddamn word again; Scott might faint. “Just for old time’s sake. Y’know?”
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> Scott can feel his length thickening in his shorts, beginning to strain against his boxers, and he silently wills it to stay down.
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> “I don’t know Stiles, isn’t it kinda childish? Is there really any point to it?”
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> Stiles rolls his eyes once again. “Of course it’s childish. But who cares. And besides, I wanna see who’s bigger. And since your dick hasn’t been affected by any wolf affliction, it’ll still be a fair contest.” Stiles crosses his arms across his chest, knowing that he’s effectively wearing Scott down.
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> Scott can feel himself relenting, submitting to the ridiculous situation. He needs to pull himself together. He’s a werewolf goddamnit, he should have better control over himself and this situation.
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> He wills his dick to soften, and then sits up a little straighter, and regains his confidence, remembering something about their little 13 year old contests.
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> “Well, if I remember correctly Stiles, I was always bigger than you. Are you sure you wanna face that humiliation again?” Scott eyes him smugly, joking. Maybe only a little bit though.
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> Stiles puffs out his chest, now standing up off the wheelie chair. “Hey! I was a late bloomer!” he claims indignantly, “and besides, I reckon I’m bigger than you now. You may have that beautiful fat ass, but I am pretty sure I’ve got your number when it comes to this.”
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> Scott can’t believe what he’s hearing. Listening to Stiles talk about his ass is like some kind of drug. Scott knows this is escalating beyond anything even remotely reasonable or normal, but he can’t stop the momentum now. He stands up from the bed and asserts himself, less than three feet away from Stiles, only carpet separating them at this point. Scott can smell the mint mojito gum on his breath.
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> “Soft or hard?”
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> Stiles widens his stance slightly and says, “We’ll do soft first, then hard. Just to cover all bases.” Scott nods approvingly. “ _So_ , should we just take off our shorts and boxers?” Stiles asks.
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> Scott swallows hard and answers, “Yeah, that’s pretty much what we should do… yep.”
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> Scott watches as Stiles hooks his thumbs into his waistband and starts sliding his beige khaki pants down his long legs. Scott pants with need, totally and absolutely transfixed.
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> Stiles looks up questioningly and makes eye contact. “C’mon man, you gotta do it too.”
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> Scott snaps out of his trance and mumbles a barely comprehensible sorry, before following suit. He pulls down his shorts and boxers, and kicks his legs out of them, discarding them to the far corner of his room.
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> Scott looks up, and there is Stiles, standing in front of him in all his glory. Scott could just about die. He hungrily surveys his best friend’s body from top to bottom.
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> The wide stretch of his shoulders, broadened by lacrosse, down to his pale chest, a small thatch of hair nestled between his lightly defined pecs, before leading down to an abundant, thick stripe of black hair that runs from his navel to his groin, spreading outward the further down it goes.
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> And then there’s Stiles’ dick.
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> Scott is convinced that if there is such a thing as a perfect cock, it belongs to Stiles. It is long and thick and plump and just absolutely _edible_ , with perfect, large egg shaped balls hanging beneath in a fleshy, shaved sack, and Scott can barely contain himself. He’s uncut, unlike Scott, and that just makes it all the more appealing.
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> “Woah man,” Scott gasps, eyes widening in amazement, “your dick sure has _grown_ Stiles.”
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> “Mine?” Stiles exclaims. “Look at yours! It’s so fucking thick and big man. I had no idea.” Stiles shakes his head in disbelief, previous confidence in his cockiness wavering.
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> Scott doesn’t think his is that big, but he pushes that aside for the moment. “Over there,” Scott points, “at my desk. There’s a ruler.”
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> Stiles nods swiftly, turns around and strides towards Scott’s desk to grab the ruler, bending over slightly to pick it up. Scott can’t help but drool slightly as he looks at Stiles’ slightly hairy butt cheeks spread open and expose a sliver of Stiles’ tight, ever so fuckable hole.
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> Stiles turns around and smirks. “You totally just watched me bend over just now, didn’t you?” Scott shook his head quickly, both denying the claim and trying to shake the image from his head.
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> “Let’s just measure, alright? You first.” Stiles smirks again at Scott’s quavering, breathy voice and brings the ruler to the underside of his cock, resting it just above his beautiful balls.
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> Stiles shakes his dick slightly, then reads, “4.8 inches.” He looks up into Scott’s eyes, almost challenging him, and then passes over the ruler. “Your turn.”
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> Scott takes the ruler from Stiles’ hand, fingertips brushing, and copies Stiles actions.
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> Scott breathes out. “5.3.” He smiles and looks back at Stiles, into his hazel eyes, glinting in the now setting sun shining through the window.
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> Stiles is jittery and fiddling again. “So, should we just jerk off now? To get hard?” He shifts his weight from side to side, bouncing on the balls of his long feet.
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> “Right in front of each other?” Scott questions uncertainly, but undoubtedly aroused by the prospect.
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> “We’ll be seeing each other hard anyway,” Stiles counters, “so it’s not that much different.”
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> Scott bites his lip. “Well alright then,” Scott begins to stroke himself, “let’s get hard.”
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> The next minute or so is almost suffocating for Scott. He’s stroking himself to hardness, watching himself thicken and lengthen. Every so often he’ll look over at Stiles, and watching his best friend’s cock get hard helps him get rock hard near instantly.
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> “Well,” Stiles says in a wide stance with his cock in his left hand, “I’m hard.”
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> Scott really is struggling to breathe. Stiles’ cock is _huge_. Maybe not as thick as his, but definitely longer. “Holy shit man, you’re massive.”
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> Stiles chuckles. “Thanks.” He grabs the ruler once more and places it on the underside of his dick, and then pushes his cock down onto the blue plastic ruler to accommodate the slight bend of his erect member.
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> Scott watches eagerly as Stiles’ eyes runs down the length of the ruler to where the tip of his dick ends, flushed purple head exposed and straining out from his foreskin.
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> “7.9 inches.” Stiles face transforms into a shit-eating grin, and Scott cannot help but smile back. Stiles straightens up and tries to remain serious, failing miserably. “Your turn again.”
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> Scott takes the ruler once more from his best friend’s veiny hands and lays his weighty length onto the ruler, the tan of his cock contrasting against the blue plastic.
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> “7.2 inches.”
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> Scott just stood there, looking across at his best friend, also naked, also erect. Their eyes met and held, their gaze, and connection, unflinching. Scott can tell that there is so much more in this look than there was before. This isn’t a joke or a game. The sun has set for the day, and night has come, the moonlight now basking Stiles in a pearly shine. He can smell the arousal and pheromones coming off Stiles in pulsing waves, like a bitch in heat. Scott felt his balls jump and his cock twitch and start to leak pre-cum.
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> Stiles looked down, noticing the twitch from his peripherals. He smirks again. Scott is focusing on Stiles lips. His goddamn pretty lips. So red. So wet. So pouty. So kiss-able. All of Scott’s inhibitions and self-control leaves him. He searches Stiles’ eyes, reading them for consent and acceptance, because Stiles deserves that.
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> Stiles gulps, lips slightly open in a way that drives Scott mad, and Scott wants to bite down on his neck like an animal, like a wolf.
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> He closes the gap between him and Stiles, and before he knows it, he’s kissing Stiles, cradling his neck, thumbs on his jaw. Breathless and intense and hot and wet and loving and _so so_ _sexy_.
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> And Stiles is kissing him back.

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about creating a series about cock measuring hijinks for different fandoms. Is that a good idea? Love to hear your thoughts. ;)


End file.
